Before I begin, I must warn you this tale is not for the faint of heart. If you begin to feel light-headed or a sense of disbelief it might be best to take a moment and sip some refreshing English tea. I am sure you have heard some of the gruesome details concerning the murder victims of Jack the Ripper but what you haven't heard is how he killed his victims and what Jack the Ripper really was.
Our story actually begins here in this very parlor. A few years back, I entertained a few constables with some of my finest English tea every Tuesday afternoon. The last Tuesday they were here, I noticed they were hovering over a small wrapped bundle inspecting it carefully. One of the men turned and faced me. He was wearing special quadrafocals that had multiples lenses stacked upon another by a small pin that bound them to brass hinges on each side. The magnification made the constable's eyes appear wide and reminded me of that of a pollock fish. The constable wearing the quadrafocals asked me if I had another candle as he required additional light to inspect by. I fetched the candle as requested and set it on the table alongside the wrapped bundle. The rumpled cloth bundle was a handkerchief which contained a shiny metal black blade apparently broken on it's heel. This shiny black tip was about 3 inches long and had a beveled razor edge on one side. The constable was curiously poking at the questionable slat with a pair of long handled tweezers, shifting it from side to side. The man in the quadrafocles turned and said “Mr. Swanson, I just can't make out this mysterious metal. It's not a type of iron, or steel, and it's certainly not brass or copper. Bullocks! It's just strange. The damned thing gives when pressure is applied. Now, why would a blade be so flexible and light-weight? How could this blade have been so brutal?” Well, this certainly peeked my curiousity and I began leaning in to draw my own conclusion as any self respecting tea house inventor would when the men turned an looked surprised at my sudden interest. I ignored them and continued making my way closer to the evidence for further inspection. “Constable Reid might I borrow your quadrafocals for a moment? I need to check for signs of decay.” I held the blade over the flame and noticed no change in the heat. Then I pulled out a magnet from a small hidden pocket in my blouse and found no attraction to the mysterious metal. I turned to the gentleman and said “well it's definitely Aluminum.” A silent pause hushed the room and then a sudden boisterous laughter struck them. “Tell me Ms. Finley, how did you arrive at your little conclusion?” mocked the hairy rotund little man. His name was Commisioner Monro and he was peering at me with delight through his monacle waiting for my explaination. “Well, based on Constable Reid's description of the blade and my inspection I can tell that's it the same metal type I have used in my own automaton construction. Aluminum is most useful in it's lightweight and anti-magnetic properties as they do not hinder the inner workings of a clockwork mind.” It was silent again only this time there was no laughter. Constable Reid smiled with delight and said “You are very curious, Lady Finley, very curious indeed. Tell me, might I get you opinion on something else. Would you mind to accompany me to the laboratory?” Commisioner Monro shot Reid a sharp look and walked away with disgust.
When we entered the laboratory a stink of blood and sweat permeated the air. I nearly writhed my digestive biscuit and decided that it was an utterly bad choice for afternoon tea. The laboratory was cold and musty since it was located underneath one of the metropolitan police stations. In the center of the room was a wooden table with a draped linen over top of a body. I quickly pulled out my kerchief and covered my mouth to keep from breathing in the most vile vapors and to cover my horror from the critical eyes of Monro. Constable Reid turned to me and said, “Lady Finley, I must apologize for bringing a lady into such a revolting place. Please understand that we are running out of time and you are the only one who has made any progress on the details of this crime at all.” I looked at Reid and said “I will do my best” as he unshrouded the dead body. It was a woman. The eyes looked as if they were staring off waiting for the soul to return. Her brown curled hair was matted with blood that trickled along the jaw line as her neck had been nearly severed with a four inch cut. I dropped my handkerchief as I studied the multiple wounds that had pierced her bodice and skirt. It was horrifying. In silence a loud voice shouted in my ear “Now, what say you, Ms. Finley?” It was the voice of Monro being his usual assinine self. He flashed a smirk and said “Regale us with your expertise on what kind of weapon could do this using your so called aluminum?” My mind was racing as I was quickly searching for some quick wit to blast back when a crowd of constables rushed through the door. “Monro, we found another victim! And it seems it took place right after this one.” Immediately the entire room went to task and were rushing out the door like an army of ants scurrying to the top of their hill. Reid grabbed my arm and rushed me into a carriage in the street. He knocked the top of the cab and we dashed away with bells clanging to clear the way.
I began digging through my satchel looking for my own quadrafocals wrapped in a cinched velvet tote. They were different than the pair used by Reid in that they had brass modificators which automatically adjusted the perception forwards and backwards. These were of my own design based on the ocular theories of being near sighted which worked quite nicely for fine inspection. They also featured the opposite which was most useful for observing the area before we arrived. I peered from the open window of the carriage door. The streets were beginning to clear as the sight of the constables of Scotland Yard began to arrive. Many of the usual street lingerers disappeared for fear of being arrested while the rest sought refuge in their homes. We arrived at tall building and I began following Constable Reid closely as we darted from alley to alley. The brick walls and hanging laundry surrounded us with room only to walk single file between a checkerboard of linens. The pit in my stomach from earlier at the station was knotting once again and my heart was racing. We arrived at a woman laying in the street with a pool of blood around her. Constable Reid knelt down over the victim and inspected her wounds. Without turning he curled his fingers at me to come for viewing as I was fiddling with the modificators' adjustments. I quickly stepped between the wet red cobblestones and leaned in for finer focusing. Her wounds measured precisely to that of the previous body. He whispered “What do you think would have cut so finely? The cuts are of fine precision and not the dull tears of a blade. I wanted you to see this and see if it might remind you of anything.” I looked at him in amazement and decided to go back to my Steamery for some thought. We decided to meet back at the teashop for further discussion.
We met the next day and didn't arrive at any conclusions other than the usual obvious details which had not worked in our favor as of yet. In fact an entire month past without arriving at any conclusions or investigating new murders. At one point, the Metropolitan Police declared to the papers that it had ended. But Constable Reid and I knew that it was only a matter of time before the next murder occured. I became obsessed with curiosity and began looking for information on my own. Reid got wind of my investigative snooping through Monro who was furious at the notion of a Lady prying into the affairs of Scotland Yard. I was visited by Reid one afternoon out of concern and guilt. “Lady Finley, I have been informed of your visits to Whitechapel. I am sure you are aware of what evil lurks on those dark streets. Tell me that you will not return and that a lady of your stature ought not be skulking around with bastards and ladies of the evening.” I bit my lower lip and grit my teeth and firmly said “Fine. You and I will skulk together amongst the bastards and ladies of the evening. I will not even consider stopping until you and I have a good look around.” The constable looked at me and chortled “I suppose I can't talk you out of this, can I? If I don't I suspect you will just continue. Why did I ever get you involved? I am a damned fool. Commisioner Monro was right. A woman has no business dealing with the affairsof this murder.”
Near evening a carriage appeared at the steps of my steamery and waited for my arrival. The remaining afternoon I spent armoring my satchel with various tools of my own design in case our luck changed. My attire changed into a simple black frock with a high collar cloak in black since it seemed approriate for skulking amongst the shadows and separating myself from the so called ladies of the evening. I dashed out the door and entered the carriage. Constable Reid was waiting amongst another constable named Abberline. It seems that they both had suspicions about where the “Leather Apron” might be lurking next. Reid and I would head to the area of Miller's Court while Abberline looked to the south. We had mapped all the previous murders and this seemed to be the most efficacious place to start since it was centrally located to the other murders.
Miller's Court was a block of old brick buildings and interconnecting passageways that reminded me of a maze. We had stayed to the main street as much as possible since it was easy to lose your way in the dark alleys. I could hear the shouts of angry men and the crying of starving children echoing through the walls of the prisons of the unfortunate. I kept my satchel close and kept pace with Reid as the night passed on. We decided to start heading back to the carriage when we heard a deafening scream that resonated in the ear drum. It was coming from Miller's Court. We dashed to the darkness of the alleyway when a sudden flash of light reflected into our eyes. With quick thought I rushed to the reflected light and began following a shadow as I neared a passage way with lamp posts to one side. The shadow was oddly shaped and was something I had never seen before. Long shadows stretched up the side of another building. Then another stretched upwards and another and another until they formed a round mass at the top of the building. I peered round the corner and saw what could have made such an odd form. It was a mechanical spider. Sharp tipped blades matching that of the one found in the previous victim connected to the creature. The blades pierced the cobblestone grooves while the legs were round tubular structures that hinged on a clockwork abdomen. It's head was made of gears with spiked pinchers to either side of it's face and it turned and noticed me. I screamed in horror and backed myself into the wall. I was stunned how such a creature even existed. Trapped by the wall behind me, the creature scurried over and cornered me. It moved with hard precision and gutted its blades into the wall beside my arms, trapping me inside its clutches. The mysterious blade from the earlier murder now made sense because of the thrust being used and the need for a lightweight metal. I began randomly digging in my satchel searching for anything that would be of use. I thought to myself “Who packs for this kind of encounter?” The remaining bladed arms were descending to pierce my bodice and were beginning to expose my bosoms when I snatched out the first item I came to: the very blade that started the whole affair. I reached up and into its eyes I jammed the broken blade into the inner workings of it's clockwork mind. While it was writhing in pain, I crouched down and crawled underneath its pointed abdomen. I turned to lift myself up to run when I spotted the shoe of a man standing over me. He lunged at me with a nightstick and began beating me while his other hand held that of knobed device. I shoved his arm into the wall and the device was smashed. The mechanical spider began attacking him and cornered him into submission. I was trying to make out the face of the ripper, when Constable Abberline and Reid appeared. They efficiently manuvered around the robotic spider and bound the murderer in the darkness. The commotion had woken the neighbors and windows were beginning to light the alley. They rushed the man down the street and hid him into the carriage before a crowd formed. Constable Reid came to retrieve me into another carriage and I was taken back to the Tea house for safety.
The next day I rushed to the station and demanded to know who Jack the Ripper was. I unfortunately was not the only one demanding to know as crowds encircled the station. I think I even spotted Ms. Bevan banging on the door demanding an answer about the latest murder. Suddenly, an arm grabbed my wrist and I was escorted away from the mob. Constable Reid was dressed in a cloak and we came back here. Reid explained that we had indeed caught the mysterious “Jack the Ripper” and it was imperative to keep it a secret since all of London would be thrown into chaos if he was ever revealed. He was a man of some importance and is secretly imprisoned in London Tower. He was of course missed from Scotland yard by the papers and was reported as having resigned due to a personality clash with the head commisioner of the metropolitan police. Apparently this man, who's name escapes me at the moment, was brutally killing ladies of the evening and stealing anything they had of value to finance the construction of his spider with the intent to purge White Chapel of it's deviants and indiscretions. For my safety from this vigilante my name was of course kept secret. I know I can trust your discretion on this matter.
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